


A Useful Robot!

by MeltyRum



Category: Persona 3, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: F/M, Gang Rape, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ryona
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22156078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeltyRum/pseuds/MeltyRum
Summary: Aigis is kidnapped by some rough customers and subsequently learns some interesting things about herself.
Relationships: Aigis/Arisato Minako
Kudos: 4
Collections: Boku no Hero Academia x Persona





	A Useful Robot!

By my internal clock, I could tell that it had been three hours since my visual feed went dark, and thirty minutes since I had been deposited here. While I was unable to gain a complete understanding of my assailants’ quirks, I concluded with confidence that one of them was able to create powerful magnets with his touch, making it a trivial act for him to immobilize my limbs. I believed the other assailant had an electricity quirk which was used to create an opening for this magnetism.

For the moment, I did not know where I was. It appeared that my limbs were still magnetized, ostensibly to metal protrusions on the wall, leaving me standing with my back against it. My vision remains obscured by a cloth blindfold, but my hearing remains uninhibited, as I have heard activity in what must be an adjacent room. My uniform, as far as I can tell, has remained undisturbed.

Though I must wonder why I have been taken against my will, it is difficult not to fret for my loved ones. It had been three hours since I was taken, but it had also been _two_ since I was meant to meet Minako-san at her parents’ household. In another two hours, I should have been returning home to see Fuuka-san and Natsuki-san—and while I do not consider myself a pessimist, I fear that being released in that time is not something I can bring myself to hope for.

It hurts me to admit it, but I was afraid. Memories of Hoshii-san—among others—come to mind: reminding me that I am different, and that there are some who some might seek to hurt me—or worse—because of it.

I knew that I was naive. They warned me of prejudice, but prejudice is not something I had many personal experiences with, or is something I had otherwise failed to or chosen not to notice. I knew that most humans were good; that is why I try to be as similar to them as I can, or at least the ones that I love. This has been a burden for them lately—for Fuuka-san, Minako-san, even Monoma-san. They would likely be too kind to admit it, but I knew my struggle to impersonate humanity has not been easy for any of them.

It made me wonder if that is what has offended these men. Why does this robot walk the streets as a teenage girl? Why should a hero’s failed support equipment autonomously make demands on the time of a real, _human_ , attractive young woman? Or… why does Minako-san make me feel the way that I feel, in the first place? And why is it still so difficult to believe that she might still feel the same way—that I bring her as much joy as she brings me?

The duration had become three hours and thirty minutes; I note this because the slam of a door alerted me to visitors—two pairs of footsteps, if my hearing was to be believed. The same two men who kidnapped me in the first place?

“Still here. Still quiet,” said one. His voice was smooth and his speech practiced; the enunciation was very careful. I would place him in his thirties, at a guess. He inhaled a particular way after speaking… I believed he must have been smoking a cigarette.

“Yes, Q. She doesn’t sleep, I’m sure. Probably used to sitting still for hours at a time. But she can hear us.” This voice was rougher, older. Forties. I could hear him approaching. “I’ll strengthen the magnets. You never know… she’s helped take villains down, you know.”

“Don’t get too close to the hands,” warned the softer, smoother voice. “I hear they can shoot. Don’t want to end the fun too soon.”

“I’ll be okay. Just give her a shock if she does anything.”

“Release me,” I ordered, as firmly as I could without raising my voice or sounding angry. I wasn’t angry, after all, so much as afraid. It was a different sort of feeling than when I met Mochizuki-san. This was a different fear—a vulnerable one.

“So she speaks! Not too wordy, though.” This was the younger man, and he approached to my left. “You aren’t going to be released just by asking, Aigis-chan.”

“You don’t have to use her name,” said the rougher voice, in a timbre dripping with disgust. “She’s just a machine. A household item. And now she’s ours, for as long as we’d like. She’ll need a new name, but something normal, like how you call your microwave a microwave.”

There was some laughter in response. “I kind of like her name, though. ‘Aigis-chan’. She might be friendlier if you use it. Girls like it when you remind them that _you_ remember their names.”

“Would that she were a girl. But she’s an object. Here, put that cigarette down and give me a hand—I don’t think she’ll need this blindfold anymore.”

A strong hand held my head back, forcing it into the wall behind me with concussive force. This had little effect on me, of course, but it allowed his fingers purchase on the blindfold, and when it fell away I was able to glimpse my captors—something I was grateful for, as memories of my capture were difficult to parse, due to the electric shock.

The younger man—apparently called “Q”—greeted me with a smile, but it was not a friendly one. His thin frame wore a suit of unusual colors and he had clearly put effort into the styling of his hair, which had been dyed red; I could not see any tattoos, but he gave me the impression of a yakuza. As he ground out his cigarette with one shoe, I turned my eyes to the other man, whose gaze was more severe. His long, black hair did little to obscure his scarred face, and his build was massive, for a Japanese person. The outfit had no outstanding characteristics so much as it outlined the muscles beneath the fabric.

“What are you planning to do to me?” As I was a robot, there was little they _could_ seek to do to me, besides my bodily destruction. I could register pain and other tactile sensations, but not in the same way that humans did; to me, pain is a notification—an informative alert that would not inhibit or control me in any way.

To be honest, there were times I lamented that fact. Even now, perhaps it would not serve me… if I could not be tortured, it stands to reason that they would destroy me all the sooner. The question is: would I recover from this destruction as smoothly as I did my last, where I outlived my father? The “Papillon Heart”, as Fuuka-san calls it: if it remains intact—if they know not of its existence—need I fear whatever abuse they have in store for me?

Of course, there was the matter of the processing engine in my head, as well. If it sustained undue damage… what might happen? All my memories remain available to me, save for those of the day _he_ died. Should I expect the same if they break me today, providing I am found later? Or will I forget more? Minako-san, perhaps?

“What will you do with me?” I repeated, yearning for an answer; I could feel my thoughts and worries were beginning to hurt—more, I thought, than whatever these two men might be able to bring to bear.

Apparently it was the older man’s turn to smile. “We’re going to break something that shouldn’t be here. And, if possible, enjoy the process.”

“Fortunately, we’ve got all the info in hand we need to do that. Can’t understand that much of it, though.”

The elder man nodded. “We had a ‘friend’ at the Kirijo Group. Wasn’t difficult to get your specs after a little elbow-twisting. Very interesting things in there. I wonder if Yamagishi-san herself wrote them up—her skills must be admired, even if they produced a _mistake_. But a mistake is easy to fix. You’re a prototype, after all, and if we send your head to Yamagishi, she won’t be rebuilding you. She’ll just build the improved version of ‘Aigis’. And we’ll send her that one’s head, too, fortune willing.”

There was a sigh from Q. “Yes, well… if it makes you feel better, Aigis-chan, I’m not so disturbed by your existence as _Z_ is. But I’m still a pretty bad guy—when I was invited to play with you, I thought I shouldn’t pass it up. I get a lot of girls, you know, but none of them have been robots. Well… pretty sure, anyway.” He ended with a chuckle, finding himself very amusing.

But to me, this levity only brought dread. “You will be disappointed if you believe that tormenting me will be ‘fun’.”

“No. No, I think you’re quite wrong there, machine,” said the older, whose colleague had dubbed him “Z”. “A human you may not be, but we know enough to make you feel pain. To humiliate you. Disgrace you. I think you know where I’m going, _little girl_.” He spat the last few words, as though he considered it an insult to himself to speak them.

Q nodded his agreement. “Right. You’ve got a mouth, don’t you, Aigis-chan? And now we’ll put it wherever we want. And I don’t think you ought to struggle much; we can always use magnets to force your mouth open—break your jaw, maybe?”

“ _Why_?” I could not stop myself from asking. “I’ve never meant harm to anyone. My existence is not my fault any more than your existence is yours.”

“Interesting point. I think she’s suggesting we punish Yamagishi-san instead, Q.”

“N-no!” I issued my correction as swiftly as I could. “That is not what I meant. Please leave Fuuka-san out of this.” It took me by surprise how pathetic it felt, pleading with these men as though anything I might say would have any consequence. As though pleading with horrible men had made a difference in any situation of this sort—but the words came more automatically than I expected.

Z seemed satisfied. “That’s what I thought. Well, I won’t make any promises regarding Yamagishi-san. Before that, we have a lot of work to do.” He reached forward, hooking his fingers into the collar of my uniform. “First things first: we’ll have to remove this ridiculous clothing.”

With startling strength, he tore a wide gash down the front of my uniform, completely removing the tie and a significant amount of suit and jacket along with it. In the very next motion, he had completely torn the skirt from my hips, leaving me “nude” save for the tatters of sleeves which covered my arms. My shoes, I now realized, had already been removed, leaving only the metallic hooves I had been born with.

A fitting bra I had not managed to find, due to the inhuman properties of my torso. I had, however, taken to wearing the underclothes common to human girls “my age” (it was mandated by the school, after all), and today’s selection continued to grace the area between my legs, much to the apparent disgust of my attacker. It was an odd feeling. Had it been a year ago—or even mere months ago—I know I would have experienced no embarrassment in having my skin of white canvas exposed to the eyes of others. But now, having his gaze on the metallic arches of my hips and their underlying machinery…

An ugly, scorching feeling began to well up inside of me. The nature of it eluded me, but I guessed that it must be a feeling of disgust, embarrassment, and disappointment. Being laid bare before two men who would turn me into a victim—I think it helped me understand why some humans wanted to die.

“Missed some, did I?” started Z, slipping a finger down in between my underwear and the canvas above my crotch. He traced his finger along the waistband, his touch more gentle than I would have expected.

“Must be protecting her modesty,” Q said with a smirk. “She really does think she’s a girl, I guess. Well, I’ll cut the sleeves of her uniform off. You going to get that?”

Z nodded, slipping the rest of his fingers into the garment before violently ripping it from my body, shredding the fabric with little effort. He clapped his hands together as if to clean them of dust, allowing himself a complacent smile. “That’s a little better. With no more schoolgirl disguise, we’re back to the bitch’s original form. Though I’m sure no one would have mistaken you for human in any case.”

I was wrong. I know now I was wrong… about the pain they might be able to inflict on me. I should have known better—thinking that they would be unable to torture me was naive. All this work to become more human—if I could not muster the emotions necessary to feel this humiliation for what it was, would there have been any other way to mark my growth? I should be relieved to be able to recognize how I have matured, but… is there truly anything to be grateful about, in this situation? Should I be happy when my development is the _cause_ for the pain I feel now?

“Please,” I whispered, against my better judgment. “This is enough. What do you want from me?”

“Everything, robot.” Starting from one of my hips, Z began trailing a finger up my body, past the belly, up between my breasts, and finally stopping at my chin, where he gently took a hold of my jaw. “You belong to the both of us now, and we’ll do what we please— _take_ what we please.”

“This is a crime. It is _wrong_ ,” I said, mildly surprised at my own capacity for desperation and futility. “If you hurt me—”

“Hurt what?” he interrupted, strengthening his grip in annoyance. “It’s not illegal to hurt a refrigerator. Theft... may be. Destruction of property may be. Littering. But you’re a machine, aren’t you? Equipment—sensitive though it might be—and clever programming. What’s more, you are not very useful equipment, are you?”

“We all know what happened with Wild Card, after all,” Q added with a chortle, lighting a new cigarette.

“Cease this! It hurts!” I insisted. “I loved him as though—”

“ _Stop_ ,” commanded Z, his massive hand enveloping my mouth. It forced me to realize his intimidating size, even after his displays thus far. “You were made to love him. What else would Yamagishi-san want for her husband? I know, though… I know it’s impossible for you to realize this, but it is the truth: you only do what your programming says to.”

Though his palm silenced me, I did my best to give a muffled response: what of the people I love now? My friends? My desires? I know Fuuka-san did not program me to desire a hero’s education—how could she have?

He smiled, as though he understood my mumbling all too well. “No doubt you’re thinking of your ‘girlfriend’. Not something your mother could have prepared for, yes? Well, I’m not certain that even that is true, but even so—it can be coincidence. ‘Minako Arisato’. An uncanny similarity, isn’t it? Perhaps she lets you pretend you still have the man who you failed.”

“A cute girl, that Minako-chan,” Q chimed in. “We had our eye on you, which means we had our eye on her, too. Think she’d come if I told her where you were, Aigis-chan?” He grinned, and I think my jaw might have begun to tremble—were it not in the grip of the massive man before me.

“That may not be necessary,” said Z. “I question Arisato’s judgment, but she hasn’t done anything wrong. Perhaps she is simply… curious. Like we were. That said, your cooperation may be wise; I can’t exactly stop Q from doing what he wants. So… let’s begin.” He relaxed his hold on my mouth, moving his thumb to my lips and prodding gently, as if trying to coax my mouth into accepting it. “Open.”

That searing feeling rose inside me once again—disgust, or something akin to it. It inspired an anger and rebelliousness within me which I knew would earn me no favors, but I could feel their mention of Minako-san generating despair in my chest, invoking a fear and misery I could rarely remember experiencing. I shook my head in refusal. But I do not know what frightened me more—the implicit threat they posed to Minako-san, or my inability to refute his argument: that my attraction to Minako-san was perhaps coincidental, or even nonsensical.

I shook my head again.

Q whistled. “She’s going to be a bad girl tonight, looks like.”

Z bristled, clearly annoyed to see me referred to as anything besides a machine. “Shock her.”

“Yeah, yeah. I have to admit I’m impressed, though—this behavior’s not that unusual for a girl in a situation like this. You think Yamagishi programmed for _this_ , too?”

Q did not wait for an answer—or if Z gave him one, I did not hear it, as I felt my awareness (as it were) ostensibly flung backward, deep into the concrete wall I had been fastened to, my vision replaced with motes of light and darkness both, and sound became a meaningless and deafening screech—a disturbing existence where everything was noisy and everything could be seen, but none of it could be parsed by my processing engine. I could remember the feeling well from the moment of my capture, especially when the feeling was chased by the odor of overheated components. When he released me from the clutch of his arcing bolts of electricity, I felt my body fall limp, hanging from my makeshift magnetic shackles like a doll—all while every sector of my body sent alerts of the danger to what served as my brain.

But there was little I could do in response. This was a flaw in my construction: overheating. I had only previously experienced it when Minato was still alive, and only during prolonged or intensive combat. In this way—as in many others—I was imperfect, and now perfectly immobile because of it, even if only for a minute.

And these men knew. They had mentioned something about Kirijo, did they not? Were they telling the truth?

As my lips parted against my will, Z’s thumb slipped its way in, finding my tongue.

To my ears—or rather, to the earcup-like apparatuses which acted as them—came the sound of Q making conversation: “Ah, her eyes are still looking pretty dead, like before. You think she can sense what’s happening?”

I could sense it. The salty flavor of his thumb had filled my entire mouth by this point, leaving me with only a sinister tang. I… do not experience taste the same way that humans do—I have memories of sharing this information with Monoma-san. Good and bad flavors—or preferring one taste over another—was not a concept I had grown to understand, as what I enjoyed had little to do with the constituent flavors. Minako-san’s taste was my favorite because I liked Minako-san. I enjoyed crepes because of memories with Monoma-san. A flavor, to me, was only as “good” as the situation I experienced it in.

It may come as no surprise that this new flavor, then—though it may have been similar in many ways to Minako-san’s—repulsed me. But my body was still cooling, and I could offer no resistance to this violation. He agitated his thumb about the interior of my mouth, spreading his flavor and coating himself with my saliva. The hint of a smile on Z’s face betrayed his pleasure at my indignity.

“She’s got a pretty lewd mouth, after all,” said Z, retracting his thumb just long enough to make use of it in spreading my own saliva on my lips. “I have a feeling she’ll let us use it.”

“Now what need would Yamagishi-san have for giving her robotic daughter such a pretty pair of lips, I wonder?” asked Q, who had drawn very close after delivering his shock to me. “I have to admit, it’s making me pretty excited, Aigis-chan.” He reached forward to rub my hair approvingly, and my body did not respond to my commands to evade his touch. As his fingers weaved through my hair, I could feel a succession of static discharges along the top of my skull, which forced my body to twitch involuntarily.

Q seemed pleased. “Looks like she’s getting some movement back. Though I can’t say I dislike the broken doll look, either. And I’m sure she’ll look pretty different when we’re finished with her.”

“Quite,” responded the older man, allowing his thumb to once again violate my mouth, slipping it along my cheek and behind my teeth. “Tell me, robot: do you know the story of your namesake?”

My response came in the form of a mechanical whine—the sound of my vocalization mechanism struggling to bring itself online, muffled by the presence of his fingers in my mouth.

He continued, though he clearly relished my silence. “The aegis. It comes from the oral saga of the Iliad, described as protection carried by the gods. A shield, most like. Not an inappropriate name for a machine created to serve and protect humans. But do you see, android? Even your creator did not see fit to provide you with a human name; she must have known you did not deserve it—that you were an object. Not least of all, when a _shield_ is broken, it is replaced. You were designed to serve at a hero’s side, not become one yourself; your presence in that school is a disgrace to the entire system.”

“Why are you able to make that judgment?” I tried to ask this, as my voice returned to me, but still his extremity obstructed me, muting anything that I may try to say in response. This frustrated me nearly as much as his words did. A disgrace to the hero system? He did not strike me as the type of man to have any reverence for heroes, let alone the society in which they operate; it sounded like an excuse. Despite that, though… I wondered if he was right. I had not considered that my name was not Japanese. Just as my name more closely resembled a European one, so too did my features.

“Aww, she looks sad,” said Q, helpfully. “Can’t blame her, though, with you telling her she’s bad at her job. Definitely useless as _equipment_.” He clapped a “friendly” hand upon my back, sending a brief jolt through my frame. “But that’s no reason to despair, Aigis-chan. To be honest, no one wants or needs you to be good at hero stuff. We’ve got other ways you can make yourself useful around here. Hey, Z, can I show her yet, or what?”

With an irritated look, as though he had planned much more of his speech, Z reluctantly removed his digit from my mouth. “I’ll lower the magnets and bring her to her knees. That will suit your purposes better, anyhow.”

Q gave a healthy chuckle. “Please and thank you, Z-kun.”

As Z forced me down onto my knees, Q began to toy with his belt. Though I knew not what would follow, it was impossible not to acknowledge the dread building in my abdomen. The feeling told me that this is when the true torture would begin, as though all that came before was a sampling of what to look forward to before the main event, after which they would… would _what_ , I wondered? The image tormenting my mind was one of my own body, broken and discarded; how far would they go?

The young yakuza stopped with his crotch before my face, igniting my desire to flee. Unfortunately, any struggling I attempted was futile against the strength of Z’s quirk. When I heard the sound of the zipper coming undone, I averted my eyes in the hope that a final quiet refusal might turn them away or evoke sympathy.

Sadly, it was not to be so simple.

“Now, now, Aigis-chan… it’ll be fun. You can’t even choke, can you? So you’ve got nothing to worry about!” He took my jaw in hand and—with no undue gentleness—forced me to face him.

The size of it caught me by surprise. I had never before seen a human penis in the flesh, and expected I probably never would, yet… despite (or because of?) my rudimentary understanding of human anatomy, it was far more than I expected of it. Images I had seen were of limp, pliant organs, but this one was large and firm, as though the flesh and blood inside strained to escape the skin containing it. Its texture was smooth, but not as textbooks described; its head was pronounced, and veins pulsed up and down the shaft.

I pursed my lips as he tried to move the head of his member into my mouth, heeding the call of something desperate and blazing inside me which told me that if it went in, I would lose everything.

“Aigis-chan,” Q began, clearly disappointed. “Delaying it won’t help either of us, you know? Especially not you. You don’t want me to shock you again, right? So let’s make this easy.” His fingers wormed his way into my hair, taking a firm hold on my head so I could not turn it away. The tip of his phallus continued to prod my lips expectantly, and I…

Reluctantly, I parted my lips to invite him in, the fear of the electricity—and of the overheating—proving too great for me to attempt maintaining my dignity. A satisfied noise uttered forth from Q’s mouth as he entered mine. “Man, it really is soft!” I could hear him exclaim. “How’s your first human cock tasting, Aigis-chan?” he asked, with a lecherous snickering.

The flavor and texture was overwhelming. While I had no intentionof humoring his question, it was impossible not to take notice of how powerful the presence of his… _appendage…_ was in my mouth. To my surprise, it took effort to think of anything else while it occupied me. At the same time, the flavor was challenging to place. The flavors of human skin were prominent, but even that was overpowered by something that, for lack of a better word, I could only describe as “manly”. While not entirely dissimilar to her, it lacked many of the more delicate and bittersweet notes that made up Minako-san’s gentle flavor. Yes, everything about this flavor was simply _stronger_.

The power of his aroma was stirring something inside me: something alike the disgust I felt at being stripped by Z—at having everything exposed to them in such a way that should not have bothered me. It was a feeling as though something were rising, getting lighter and higher and closer to my brain cage, which simply made it more difficult to understand. Worst of all, I could not shake the impression—irrational though it was—that the taste, along with this feeling, might completely envelop me if this went far too much longer.

Q had begun thrusting his hips while I pondered the strength of his virile bouquet, and I could feel the length of his organ slide through my lips, along the top of my tongue, and to the back of what represented my throat, while my lips pressed into his skin, tickled by the coarse hairs which lived there. Still appalled by his size, it astonished me that my lips, jaw, and mouth were able to accommodate him, and I could feel the force of his thrusts throwing me uncomfortably off balance.

In order to help expedite the process, I reached my hands forward to stabilize my palms against the backs of his thighs...

Wait. My hands? But—

A sinister laugh from Z’s direction interrupted my thoughts. “Looks like you’ve noticed. Your hands are free, android. If only you’d realized a little sooner, perhaps you would have been able to devise a way to fight us off—to escape. But with me right behind you, and your head literally in Q’s hands… I think you will find any resistance on your part a bit risky. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Automatically, shamefully, I mumbled an obedient acknowledgment from around Q’s manhood. The fact that they had been able to distract me so thoroughly had filled me once again with that heavy feeling of failure. Likewise, between Q’s quirk and the strength of his phallus, I found the terror inside me was transforming me into something docile and compliant. I could scarcely believe I had been so foolish, but when gripped with fear and dread of this nature, what could I do? Yes… it had to be the fear. There was nothing I could do.

“Let’s hurry it up,” Z commanded. “It’s time to move on.”

Q nodded, grunting in pleasure before he mustered the strength to answer. “Just a minute; won’t be long now. You know, she’s not so bad, even if it’s her first time. ‘Course, I’m also doing all the work.” Q let out another peal of perverse laughter, and I could feel his fingers tighten their grip on my hair, tugging my head upwards roughly as he continued to make use of my mouth. “Come on, Aigis-chan; it’s more intimate if we look into each others’ eyes.”

His words were clearly a threat, so I met his gaze without delay. The movement was almost reflex, as if my body was waiting attentively for his every order. Was this another quirk of his…?

“That’s good. I’m almost…!” He grunted satisfaction as he continued his motions, his entire body beginning to tense before me. My instincts warned me that something was coming—that he was nearly finished debasing my mouth. Almost as soon as this occurred to me, he pulled my face further against him, burying himself down my throat as his entire body began to tense repeatedly, his member also beginning to pulse in time, releasing something into my mouth that was… was…

Too much.

Like everything else regarding his masculine power—such as the odor of his manhood before it—it was overwhelming. The taste seemed to crowd the entirety of my skull, leaving me unable to think of anything else. The flavor of his seed was surprisingly complex; I could compare it to nothing, as not a bit of it resembled any food I had hitherto sampled and it bore no elements that I might recognize in my memories of Minako-san’s palate.

If that was not enough, Q lost control of his quirk as he climaxed, sending a painful jolt of electricity which seemed to travel through his phallus and into the substance, the painful tingle of which almost made it seem as though the liquid mass had filled my entire body. My body trembled at the pain of it, but I tried my best to focus on my task, lest he deign to give me an even more painful taste of his quirk.

Whatever it was, the fluid’s volume—for lack of a better word—impressed, though I had no difficulties ingesting the whole of it, which seemed to please Q, who gave an approving laugh and a sigh of satisfaction.

“Fuck… I think I could get used to something like this,” he said, slowly liberating his penis from my mouth and throat, disgracing me further by letting his softening, moist member rest upon my cheek. “Aigis-chan, you think you’ll be my girl? I’d just love to keep you around.” He grinned.

“Enough, Q. You got your fun, didn’t you? Keep a hold on her hair; I’ll move her and magnetize her to the ground.”

Z proceeded as promised, detaching me from the wall and forcing me toward the center of the room, whereupon he threw me onto my back, immobilizing my hands against the floor. In my state of fear, the magnets were not necessary to ensure their safety, but I tried to take some comfort in the idea that they still considered me dangerous. Perhaps if I found an opening after all, I might take them by surprise?

Intiution told me this was not meant to be, however.

“Alright, android. Now that you’ve had a taste of cock, I think it’s about time we go a little further. This will show you what you’re really worth. Although,” he paused with a grim smile, “you’re being so quiet and obedient, maybe you already know. Certainly seem like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Never.” My response was weak, but I knew he had to be wrong. He knew, after all, that I would be fearing for my life. In a situation like this, I had no choice but to serve all of their needs; it ran counter to my interests not to. If I obeyed and survived, I could deliver these men to justice—I did my very best to keep this possibility in mind.

I could not bring myself to articulate all of this to him, however.

“Well, I have to admit that it’s very possible you’ve got no way of receiving pleasure like that, being a robot. That said, even if _your_ pleasure is something impossible, I think you’ll find you’ve got many ways of pleasing men,” said Z, who knelt before me and used his massive hands to spread my legs, exposing the white canvas at my crotch—the white which had served as my only outfit for years.

I winced as he lowered a hand to me, sensing his fingers stroking the spot between my legs. I derived no pleasure or any otherwise sexual sensation from this, of course—but I could not resist feeling a surge of embarrassment from feeling him on that spot. Even Minako-san had not yet touched me there, after all. There was no way I could ask her to do such a thing!

“Please stop this,” I urged. “This is pointless—for the both of us.”

Z’s smile betrayed the joy he felt from my humiliation. “No. It’s far less pointless than you know, because you’re even more like a girl than you realize, android. Or at least… an even better doll than you imagined. I wonder why Yamagishi-san would give you something like this, if she didn’t want something like this to happen to you.” As he spoke, his touch grew rougher and more focused. Despite the fact that he was rubbing at nothing, it was hard not to grow anxious at his words. He made it sound like he knew something about my body which even I did not.

“I’m going to open you up now, ‘Aigis’. You never knew about this spot, did you?” My body jerked as he forced a finger into the canvas, tearing into it and beginning to peel it away.

“Stop it!” I shouted, surprised by my own desperation. “There’s nothing! You’ll only find machinery inside me! There’s—”

No.

There was something.

But it couldn’t be—?

Seeing that I had been frozen by my astonishment, Z reintroduced his finger to my crotch, his skin rubbing against… something else. Not canvas. Not metal.

“You had a pussy hidden in here all along. Surprising, hm? Synthetic, of course. Perhaps Yamagishi-san originally envisioned you as something else? I can only imagine the conjecture in the media. Could be your ‘mother’ wanted to make a sex slave for her husband, rather than a guardian. Either way… you’ll certainly make a good sex slave for us now, don’t you think?”

“Looks pretty real!” Q added, with unabashed excitement. “Am I going to get a turn?”

“Later,” Z promised, looking back down at the hole he had unveiled. “At any rate, she’s looking rather shocked. But… I’ll give her something to be shocked about.”

Z reached down to his belt, tugging at his clothing and revealing himself to me much as Q had done before.

This was different, however.

Z’s size was even more frightening than Q’s. There was practically no comparison; it embarrassed me to think that I had considered Q’s size to be anything above average. In the face of Z’s organ, it looked childish. This new penis was something dangerous. A threat. Even without the power of their quirks, something threateningly primal about it told me that this appendage is all it would take to destroy me. The size was disheartening—but something else stirred inside me, too…

“She’s wet, too!” Q laughed.

“Yes. Is it always like that, or is she able to feel arousal, too?” Z wondered, commencing to lower his massive shaft to my… to my…

To my what? Could I call it a female organ? It appeared to be one, but I knew I should not be equipped with one. Fuuka-san, where did this come from? How long have I had it? Why didn’t I _know_? If I had known my body had such a thing, I could have… maybe with Minako-san…

A tingling feeling alerted me to the presence of his head as it started to slide into me.

“No! Please don’t put it in! It’ll break!” I insisted, for some unknown reason worried for what might happen if this new hole of mine was immediately taken by him.

My pleas were to no avail, of course. I was dismayed to feel every inch of him entering me, spreading me wider than I had ever been meant to go. It seemed as though I could feel his exact shape as my synthetic vagina trembled around Z’s manhood, enveloping the entire thing. This was rape, I knew; I never imagined I would have to know what it was like. Everything felt so full…

“I have to say, she did a good job on this, Yamagishi-san,” Z sighed, his breath growing a little heavier.

“Take it out,” I begged weakly, trying to close my legs or break free of the magnets on my wrists.

“Take it out?” Z asked, starting to thrust deeply into me. “After all this, you think I’ll just pull out and let you go? Fine. Maybe I will—if you beg for it. Beg for me to stop.”

“ _Please_ stop,” I whimpered, already knowing the emptiness of his promise.

“Not like that. You’ll have to be more specific.” His thrusting began to pick up in speed.  
“Please… stop penetrating me like this. Your p-penis… take it out of me!” Something was beginning to feel funny. Almost… “lightheaded”. It wasn’t a sensation I had known before.

“Call it what it is, robot. A ‘cock’. Use words that humans like to use; you want to act all human, don’t you? Humor me—or I won’t humor you.”

I tried to keep my frustration in check. “Please take it out! Take your cock out of me!” I hesitated, trying to find the words to convince him. “Out of my… my pussy!” I had hoped this integration of even more lewd vocabulary would assist in convincing him to keep to his word. But saying such vulgar things felt… wrong. Shameful.

And yet, there was also something about it that felt very fundamentally proper. Something that I could not explain. Something… female?

Z allowed a lecherous smile to spread upon his features, clearly resisting the urge to laugh. “A convincing plea, android, but… no. I changed my mind.” Rather than fulfilling his promise, he thrust his cock back into me with a strength yet unrevealed. His flesh reached the very deepest part of me, sending a jolt through my body which radiated to every one of my sensor’s. But this jolt was not electric. It was…

I believed I understood what it was, though I was not certain my realization brought me any comfort. The sensation was searingly hot. I’d never felt a warmth like this, inside or out—and this feeling seemed to consume me whole; I felt it deep inside me as well as along every inch of my exterior. For a brief moment, I wondered if Q had shocked me once again—he must have done so, hadn’t he? What else could cause such blinding, confusing pain and paralysis in my body?

I did not hide from the truth for long, however; I knew that my body’s overwhelming response stemmed from the gift that Fuuka-san had hidden inside me—that, combined with the sheer circumference and depth of the thing forced inside me, was establishing inside me a series of experiences I thought would forever be beyond my reach, locked deep within a domain that might only be visited with the human nervous system.

And this… I knew the sensation. The identity frightened me. I could barely bring myself to recognize the word.

Of all the things to feel in this horrid situation, why would I be experiencing _pleasure_? Why does it feel good to be like this? I was being used like a doll, and yet—!

It was nothing like what I felt with Minako-san. There would have been little point in _me_ trying to derive pleasure from her touch—or so I had thought. So our encounters were nothing like this, and though I did my best to please Minako-san, I wondered now if my approach had been incorrect.

Our acts of intimacy were so gentle, compared to this. We might be lying on her bed, side by side, with her back pressed to my chest, my hand searching her body while I felt her hair on my face. If she accepted my touch on her bosom, I knew the pleasure would be welcomed. The metallic tips of my fingers could find her breast and tease the nipples adorning them—Minako-san often reacted with approval when they were stroked. From there, I would typically take gratification in pleasuring her between the legs, inviting myself to touch around her… and sometimes within her.

But that touching was nothing compared to this, it seemed. Being made so full… it obliged me to realize why Minako-san did not consider me to be enough for her. Perhaps a woman could never truly please a woman, after all, when men have these things which are so impressive and powerful and strong. Men are scary and potent, while women are so frail and helpless in comparison. Of course Minako-san would want a man, as well—someone like Shinso-san. Or even someone like this? Like Z…?

If I had been male! If I had been human…!

Maybe things could have been different.

Everything went blank again, and Minako-san swiftly drifted from my thoughts as everything turned into blinding, searing white hotness. My body was moving without my input, but I was vaguely aware of Z uttering some grunts of finality as he continued to move between my legs, the thrusts growing slower, yet stronger, until something hot and molten was released into me, and I thought for sure that this would kill me: it was so fiery and scorching and so deep into this moist cavity of mine that I knew it would melt me from the inside. Somehow, I just knew this would happen…

My premonition was wrong, of course.I survived, despite the heat barely seeming to dissipate. Something inexplicable happened within me—I found it incredibly difficult to move, as though I had been drained of even the desire to do so. The foggy mist which now weighed upon my mind made it so difficult to think. Speech seemed like an impossibly demanding task at present, and even attempting to keep myself apprised of my surroundings was an arduous procedure—too taxing, in fact, for me to try it for long.

Eventually, the daze lifted—if only a little—and I realized I had been moved back onto my knees. Z’s heavy cock was still, horrifyingly (gratefully?), inside me, pounding me from behind while my lips were again made useful. While I could barely focus my vision, I discerned the disgusting (and somewhat-comforting) presence of Q’s phallus returning to my mouth. The feelings of revulsion welled up within me again, but now they were accompanied by a type of joy I found impossible to describe. It radiated from my loins and mouth to every inch of my body, resonating most strongly inside my skull.

“Looks like the fight’s all gone from her,” said Z, who had taken to holding my arms back for leverage as he continued to make a mess of my hole. “She really is just a toy now. A sex robot.”

“Pretty fucking awesome,” Q conceded, panting as he helped himself to my lips and throat. “Aigis-chan is really a big blonde onahole, huh? If only the Kirijo Group had their priorities straight, we could have a whole army of bitches like this!”

“Right,” agreed Z, occasionally punctuating his words with a hard thrust. “She may have been a _disgrace_ as a bodyguard, but it looks like we’ve found her _true_ calling for her. Even a broken piece of _junk_ like her can have uses like this.”

Their words filled me with… delight. Useful, they had said… even after all of my failures and all of my embarrassing attempts to blend in with my fellow students—or with humanity at large—they conjured upmethods in which I could still serve. They showed me that I was still wanted; it filled me with the desire to be debased and demeaned even more, if it meant that men could glean pleasure and satisfaction from my body—this body I had, at one point, resented so much.

However… with what little faculties remained available to me, I realized I still wanted for one thing, though the mere thought of it also made me feel sick.

With remorseful reluctance, I understood: I wished Minako-san could be with me, here—a thought that inspired horror and guilt, yes… but excitement in equal measure. The image would not leave my head: the thought of being joined by Minako-san and being with her again was reason _enough_ for joy, but there was more to it. I wished for her to be like me—to be useful for these men, just like I was. A disturbing-but-irresistible hunger inhabited me, wanting to witness Minako-san become a useful little doll, just like the one I was transforming into.

The atrocious nature of such a thought did not escape me. But I could help it no longer. To be raped over and over again alongside Minako-san… would that not have been a dream come true? It was not my intention to be greedy, however. My calling has been found for me, after all… and it is important that I find satisfaction in this new future; that is what my “gut” was telling me.

“This just leaves one thing,” said Z, still graciously making use of me.

“Oh, is it time? You’re gonna let me do it, right?” Q sounded pleased; he pressed his cock into my throat all the way to the hilt, pausing his thrusts so as not to get distracted. “Her heart, right? It should be here...”

“Yes. Remove the ribbon, then behind the panel there...” Z guided.

It took me a moment to realize what was happening.

“Whoa! Did she just get tighter!?” Q exclaimed.

“She must realize what’s about to happen.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I don’t blame her for being worried. We’re about to scar one of her most important pieces of machinery.”

I tried to voice a complaint, but it was resolutely muffled by Q’s manhood, which teased the back of my throat as he began to do as Z bid him, clumsily undoing the ribbon, my collar, and opening the panel just as Z had described.

Despite everything—despite having all but discarded all my hope and given in—I could not help the anxiety that grew within me. The back of my neck grew warm as the crystalline chip was revealed, casting a dull blue glow over our surroundings. I was surprised to feel my body shiver involuntarily, trembling from the realization of what would happen next.

“Really is shaped like a butterfly,” said Q, impressed.

“After this, it will really be over for her. A doll in form, function, and all. I doubt she will remember her own name; if the schematics are to be believed, her emotional engine is very delicate.” Z’s relish was obvious. His hatred was hot and sharp and I could already feel it inside me. “Do it.”

When Q’s thumb pressed to the back of my neck, it was momentarily as though his face was all I could see—all I could sense in any capacity, it felt like. It was over. It was _already_ over, but this was something else. I was being… rewritten. This yakuza’s flesh—his genetic material—would burn right into my being. He would forever become apart of me, whether I wanted this or not.

In the heat of the moment, I could not decide if this was good or bad—after all, hadn’t I wanted to become this close to a human? To have their data inside me, so that I might better become one with them? It is something I had considered before: there were times I had been tempted to ask Minako-san to touch it, so that she might always be with me, but I had been too nervous or afraid to voice my desire to her. She is meant to be with others besides myself, after all; while it may not be what I desire most, her love was meant to reach many.

But a future with Minako-san… it was not to be. Now I would belong to these men, both in body and soul—for “a soul” might be what the Papillon Heart provided me, and now it belonged to them.

A strange sound reached my ears as my perception returned to normal, and I realized that I had been moaning. My body, still impaled by the both of them, had started to shake with ecstasy. This must be what it feels like to be loved so deeply… to be useful and adored so highly by the one who you are meant to be with—the person who is one with you, in your heart!

After a brief period of recovery, Z followed Q’s example, pressing his fingers into my heart, dirtying my most precious piece of equipment with his hands… and when he did this, I did not resist. On the contrary, I welcomed the possibility of feeling another human inside me—inside the depths of my character. The sensation made me wish that I could do this with any and every human, and lose myself with them. Safety was no longer a concern; it was too late, after all… the best that my efforts could muster would be an intimacy and service to humanity that would last until there were no more humans to service. It occurred to me that this fate might disappoint Fuuka-san, but I found that it was difficult to feel sad for her.

In a way, her creation succeeded, after all. I would serve faithfully and happily. I was… grateful!

Over the sounds of my own pleasure, I could hear laughter in the men who had become one with me. I hoped that I would be theirs forever…

By my internal clock, it appears to have been months since my capture. My power cells should have exhausted themselves long ago, but it seems that the men who had kidnapped me—Z and Q—had prepared for this eventuality with a charging pad much like the one I keep in my room. As a result, I have been kept in service far longer than I originally thought I might. Additionally, I have been moved several times, whereupon I am usually offered in service to many other men.

Despite the euphoria I felt from the tampering of my Papillion Heart—along with the forced sexual attentions of my attackers—a small part of me resisted in becoming a toy to unknown men. However, there was nothing I could do to refuse.

I—or rather, the logic and calculation center which I had hitherto relied upon—have since become completely disconnected from my frame; the Heart had completely taken over. As such, the signals I send can no longer even reach my limbs. My days are spent processing what is done to me as my body writhes with pleasure, moaning and whimpering involuntarily. On some days, the Heart is articulate enough to utter a few words, though they are often only pleas for… well, perhaps some examples would illustrate:

Dick!

Cum!

Cumming!

Cocks!

Please!

Master!

In these instances, the heart begs for these things with delirious passion. Modulating my voice’s volume is never a concern for it, and any moderation I may try to apply myself is ignored entirely. Thankfully, this does not seem to bother my “customers”, who often continue to employ my body with renewed enthusiasm, giving the Heart exactly what it wants. My days are filled with encounters of this kind, where I am forced only to observe.

It… is not a bad life, however.

My frame has become covered in their male fluids. Sometimes my captors have applied makeup to my face, in order to make me more appealing for their colleagues. Indeed, some have even taken to writing rude phrases onto my body in marker, often comprising insults or—occasionally—expressions which requested male attention or provided directions on what should be done in order for a man to correctly enjoy my body. For example, there were step-by-step instructions on where certain things should be inserted or deposited.

It was kind of these men, I thought, to help each other in this way. If only I had been bright enough to provide signposting of my own.

At my current location, I am often chosen as a doll for visiting men. Sometimes—and these are the days which interest me most—I am used in a room where other girls (or boys) are being used just as I am. Infrequently, there will be a newcomer who is reluctant to enter into this life. In these cases, I am often used as an exemplar for them to look up to, which fills me with happiness. Unfortunately, my performance is not always convincing to the new dolls, but our owners seem to find a way to persuade them, because it never takes long before they are lined up alongside me in our carnal endeavors.

In all, my days are fulfilling, and it makes me most happy to have a place I can call my home, where I am needed and wanted and useful.

There are times, however, where I miss gentler days… days spent with family or friends. Even when having fun, I often think of them—sometimes wishing I could see them again, or sometimes simply wondering what I might say to them if I _did_ see them.

If I did see them… I think hard, and I think that I might say...

I am sorry, Minako-san, mother... Natsuki-san. You will not see me again. There is a lot that I have learned: I am incapable of protecting others, or even myself, and am a failure—a device with no function. Likewise, with a body like mine… I will never be wholly human, either.I believe I will be more useful here, where I will be able to make all sorts of men happy with my body.

For that reason at least, I am still grateful to you, mother, for giving me life. I hope that your next creation makes you more proud than I ever could. I’m so sorry that I failed you those years ago; I know you think about him often—because I do, too. I love you, Fuuka-san.

Natsuki-san, my little sister… I do not know if you will remember me. It may be better that you don’t. I am sorry we could not have gotten to know one another better, but I’ll admit to always having felt a strong connection with you—perhaps because we needed not use our words in order to understand one another. I know I may not have been a model caretaker, but I hope that you will grow into a lovely young woman. And… please never take for granted what you were born with. Even something as simple as your soft, warm hands… they will bring you closer to your fellow humans than I could ever get. I love you, my little sister.  
Minako-san, I am constantly thinking of the time we spent together, and it pains me that we will never see each other again—but I know our relationship was strange and burdensome, and I am sorry for being so selfish as to try and involve myself with you. With you… this feeling… I cannot sufficiently put it into words, but there was so much that I wanted, but… I am sorry that you might ever have to see me like this, with tears in my eyes, even now. Though I regret that our connection will remain incomplete and imperfect, I hope that you will continue to form many meaningful bonds with the people around you. I think I still love you most of all, Minako-san.

I want to say my farewells now, so please do not look for me. Even if you should find me… I am certain that it would not be in a state I would like to be found in. Please also do not worry for me. For someone like me—for a machine—this is the most fulfilling life I could ask for. Goodbye…!


End file.
